


Rebound

by dustandroses



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Community: tamingthemuse, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, POV: Xander, Reviving Spander Ficathon, Trapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 01:09:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4767896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustandroses/pseuds/dustandroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike and Xander are trapped, and the boredom is killing them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rebound

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt Notes:** Inspiration for this fic taken from the Live Journal community: Tamingthemuse prompts: #453: Ooze  & #454: Outcast  
>  **Notes:** For the Reviving Spander Ficathon.

Back. Forth. Back. Forth. Back…and then forth. Xander sighed heavily, and watched Spike pace back and forth, again. And again. And again.

He wondered what time it was. He was pretty sure the others had figured out that something was wrong by now. They were supposed to have met back at the Magic Box by midnight, and it had to be at least one o’clock by now. Maybe later. But there was no way Xander was asking Spike the time. The vampire had practically bitten his head off the last time he’d asked.

Okay, maybe he’d asked a few times too many, but what else was there to do when you were trapped in a small – no, make that a _tiny_ – little space with an over-active vamp like Spike, who _couldn’t stop pacing_! 

Xander sighed. 

He supposed it could be worse. If the ceiling wasn’t glowing that eerie orange color, Xander wouldn’t even be able to _see_ Spike pacing back and forth – and whether he was annoyed by the pacing or not, seeing Spike pacing was infinitely better than not seeing at all. 

He’d stopped counting, though. Spike could only fit in four steps in each direction, so Xander had felt like he’d been on Sesame Street, counting with the Count. There were enough vampires in the room already. If Spike had taken smaller steps, he could probably have gotten six steps in, but Xander wasn’t about to suggest he take smaller steps just to give Xander the chance to make it all the way to six. 

He stretched, lacing his fingers together, and twisting them around so he could hear his knuckles pop. Ahhh…that was satisfying. To Xander, at least. Spike gave him an evil glare, but Xander was immune by now. He waved cheerily as Spike paced his direction, then turned it to a one finger salute as he paced away again.

“I saw that,” Spike growled.

“I meant you to,” Xander chirped happily. Well, fake-happily, anyway. 

He was so bored.

He’d tried counting the laps Spike made. Every time he’d hit the wall Xander was leaning against, Spike pushed off with his hands, pivoted, and heading in the other direction to bounce off that wall four steps later. Xander had counted the rotations until he got lost somewhere around four-hundred and fifty. He started over again a few times, but after that he never could seem to make it past one hundred before his mind wandered, so finally he gave up.

He sighed, again.

“Would you stop that?”

Xander opened eyes he hadn’t realized he’d closed. “What?”

Spike stopped directly in front of Xander, his boot tapping rapidly on the dusty rock floor. He crossed his arms and stared down at Xander, who was scrunched into one corner, leaning against the wall he was sitting next to, to give Spike plenty of room to pace. 

“You keep sighing,” Spike said. “It’s very annoying.”

Xander crossed his own arms in an unconscious imitation of Spike’s move. “So is your pacing. Back and forth, back and forth! But you don’t see me making a big deal about it.”

“Yeah, well, you already had a hissy about my wanting to light up!”

“That’s because this space is only three feet wide by ten feet long. Since I’m the one who has to breathe, _I’m_ the one who’s going to get stuck breathing _your_ secondhand cigarette smoke!” 

Surprisingly enough, Spike gave up their argument when it was just getting started. In a loose, almost boneless move, he collapsed to the floor next to Xander with his own heavy sigh, crossing his legs at the ankle. 

Xander was surprised by Spike’s quick capitulation. When he thought about it, though, he realized it had been ages since they’d had a real confrontation. They still snarked at each other on a regular basis, but it was more for fun than anger these days.

After Anya left, it had been easier to get along with Spike. He hadn’t realized exactly how much of Xander’s time she’d taken up until she was gone, and he had all this time, and money, on his hands. And Spike was always glad to spend time with Xander – as long as there was a six pack of beer, or a fifth of Jack, in it for him.

Spike pulled out his lighter, and flicked the lid open. He thumbed the lighter on, and the flame burst to life. Then he snapped the lid closed. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. 

Well, _that_ wasn’t going to get on Xander’s nerves. Not. One. Bit.

“It’s barely one o’clock,” Spike announced. “You think they’ll be looking for you by now?”

“Yeah, they should be, don’t you think? We should have been back an hour ago. They should be looking for us already.” 

“ _You_ , anyway.” 

It took Xander a moment to translate that. “You don’t think they’d come looking for you?” he asked in surprise.

“Why would they? The Slayer and the Watcher’d be glad to see me gone,” Spike said bitterly.

“Not really. Not anymore.”

When Spike looked at him, Xander could see the dry sarcasm in his eyes.

“No, really. At one point they might have, but these days Giles relies on you for help with translations, and facts about demons that aren’t in the books. Don’t you remember that weird purple demon that oozed blue pus when Buffy poked it? What did Giles call it? A poxalator? Pixalator?” 

“A pizolaturn.”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” Xander elbowed Spike’s arm. “If you hadn’t told us that blue crap would eat right through metal like acid, we’d have been in serious trouble when we went after him with axes and swords.”

“I still can’t believe Beladante’s Demoratium didn’t have a single word on the buggers. We found pizolaturns everywhere we went when we were last in Italy.”

“But it didn’t. We needed you,” Xander told him. “So I guess you better get used to it.”

“Used to what?” Spike looked at him suspiciously.

“You’re a Scooby, Spike, whether you like it or not,” Xander announced proudly. 

“Oh, bloody hell!” 

Spike jumped to his feet, slipped his lighter into his pocket, and started pacing again, frowning heavily and avoiding Xander’s eyes. He got the idea that Spike was pleased, even though he’d never admit it. That was okay with Xander. He’d never admit that he liked Spike, either. Well, not out loud. 

Xander sighed, and Spike echoed it right before he bounced off the wall, and headed in the other direction. If they didn’t get rescued in the next hour or so, they were going to die of boredom, Xander was sure of it. 

Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven…

XXXXX

“Is that the best you’ve got?” Spike sneered.

“Oh, I’ll show you!” Xander snarled back at him. “Go again!”

“One. Two. Three!”

Spike had gone for scissors three times in a row, so this time Xander chose rock. 

“Paper!” Spike crowed. “Where’d you learn to play this game, idiot? Never trust a guy who plays the same thing three times in a row. That’s the one firm rule of Rock, Paper, Scissors.”

Xander grumbled. “What? There’s a strategy guide?” He was tired of losing to Spike. Every game they played, Spike won. “Where the hell are they?” he asked for the millionth time.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Stop whining. They aren’t going to forget about you. They’ll show up eventually.”

“But I could be home with a beer, watching the Quantum Leap marathon on the Sci Fi Channel, and instead I’m trapped in a tiny little room with no TV!”

“Well, I’m so sorry that the company isn’t good enough for you!” Spike was up again, and back to pacing.

Xander sighed. He’d just gotten Spike calmed down, and now he’d blown it, again.

“Nothing wrong with the _company_. But wouldn’t you rather be at Willy’s having a beer than stuck in a tiny little room with a stupid human?”

Spike leant against the far wall, and shrugged his shoulders. “Not like _they_ want me around, either.”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Xander asked. “I mean, you’re William the Bloody! You’re like a celebrity around here, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, right.” Spike laughed at that. “The celebrity who beats the shite out of his own kind every night? I hang out with the _Slayer_! You really think they want _me_ to come round for a drink?” he asked bitterly.

“Oh.” Xander hadn’t really thought of it that way. Spike was a traitor to his own kind. “That sucks.”

“Don’t it just?” Spike asked sarcastically.

Xander got up, and walked over to him, leaning against the wall next to Spike. “Well, what do those stupid demons know? _We_ like you.”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Oh. I feel so much better, now.”

Xander stepped in front of him, and playfully poked him in the shoulder. “Yeah? Well you should, pal. We don’t give our friendship to just anyone, you know.”

Spike poked Xander back. “I’m so bloody _honored_.”

“Yeah?” he snarled his best imitation of Spike. “Well, keep it up, and you’ll just be _bloody_!”

“Is that supposed to be a threat?” Spike snorted his laughter. “You’re pathetic!”

“Oh, yeah?” Xander got right up in Spike’s face, doing his best to keep from laughing. This was a hell of a lot more fun than I Spy. 

“Yeah!” 

Spike pushed him away with a sneer, and Xander stumbled back three feet to hit the far wall. Spike swaggered over to him. Xander wasn’t sure how a person could swagger when they only had three feet to go, but Spike managed it. He got right up in Xander’s face, and Xander noticed for the first time exactly how fine his eyelashes were. It was like they were painted on. And his eyes were so blue – like the depths of a sparkling pool of water. His face was so pale, and his cheekbones… 

Spike gasped, his eyes wide with surprise, and then he was kissing Xander. Xander kissed him back, and it was the most bizarre and most wonderful thing that had ever happened to him – all at the same time. His arms wound around Spike, holding him close, running over his back, amazed at the power he felt in those trembling muscles. 

They were pressed up together, but Xander was still fighting to get closer, and he opened him mouth to say – something, he wasn’t sure what – and Spike licked Xander’s lips and slipped inside. Oh, Spike tongue! He hadn’t been expecting that for some reason, but it was slick and cool, and it sent shivers up and down his spine. Holy mother of god, but that felt good!

“Xander?”

As fogged as his brain was, he was still fairly sure that Spike wasn’t a ventriloquist, and since his tongue was currently in Xander’s mouth, someone else must be saying his name…

“Xander!”

Spike and Xander pulled apart with a gasp. Xander was breathing heavily, and envying Spike’s ability to not breath at all when he was as obviously flustered as Xander was.

“Spike! Can you hear me?”

That was Buffy’s voice, and it was coming from … the ceiling? They looked up, and there were three blurry sets of feet on the glowing amber ceiling. Buffy knelt down, and they could see the vague outline of an amber-colored face. 

“I can see something moving down there,” she said. Her voice was muffled, but that definitely sounded like Buffy.

“We’re here! We’re trapped down here!” Xander shouted, straightening his clothes. He hadn’t realized, while in the midst of the kiss, that some parts of his body had gotten more into it than others. It was rather noticeable, now, and he adjusted himself, pulling his shirt down to cover the evidence. 

Spike just stood there smirking at him, and although he was embarrassed as hell, Xander had to look, just to see if he was the only one who’d been affected by the kiss. Surprisingly enough, Spike was sporting heavy wood, and Xander couldn’t help but grin, even as he blushed heavily. 

Spike wasn’t at all embarrassed. He tucked his tongue behind his teeth and grinned the sexiest grin Xander’d ever seen in his life. It was all he could do not to jump the bastard then and there. But they had a rescue party waiting for them, so this wasn’t the best timing for that.

“How do we get you out of there?” Buffy shouted.

“There’s an entrance on the basement floor, Slayer,” Spike told her. “Just be careful not to let the door close behind you.”

“It’s one way,” Xander added sheepishly, embarrassed that he’d managed to get them locked in, even after Spike had warned him not to let the door close.

After their rescuers headed off for the basement, Spike stared at Xander contemplatively for a moment.

“What?” Xander checked his hair, thinking maybe it had gotten messed up when Spike’s hands had run through it. 

“Perhaps we shouldn’t let the Slayer and company know what went on in here, eh?”

“What?” That hit Xander hard. He’d been about to ask Spike to come home with him tonight, and it hurt to know Spike had no interest in carrying on from the kiss they’d shared. “You don’t want…”

Spike interrupted him before he could get too upset about being rejected. “I don’t want the Watcher _or_ the Slayer to have the chance to decide that I’m not good enough for you.”

The very idea took Xander by surprise. “But they wouldn’t…”

“Yes, they would.” 

Once Xander thought about it, he realized maybe they would. They’d think Xander was on the rebound from Anya, and that Spike was taking advantage of him. Maybe he was rebounding, but he didn’t really care, as long as Spike was willing to kiss him like _that_ again. And again. And again. 

“Oh. But you’ll come home with me, won’t you?” He hated the waver in his voice, but he wanted this more than he’d wanted anything in a long time.

Spike grinned at him, and Xander felt a warm tingle run down his spine, and spread all over his body. 

“Why, Xander,” he said with a wink, “I thought you’d never ask.”


End file.
